SixFree
Bluelighter
Be honest with yourself and with the people close to you about your feelings, even if those feelings make you look weak or pathetic. Emotional openness isn’t just about showing strength, sometimes it’s about admitting you have none left. They say it shows confidence, that you’re not afraid to get hurt or fail. But what if you already feel like you’ve failed a hundred times?
" What if you’re just tired?????????????????????? " He said to himself for the 127th time
"lol ok" He brushed if off as just another lazy thought
Being emotionally open with others is supposed to help you deal with the hard moments in life, maybe even build deeper relationships. I don’t know if that’s true for me. I’ve tried talking about my feelings, hoping for answers, hoping for someone to tell me what steps to take next. Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. But at least explaining myself clearly reminds me I’m still human, still capable of saying “this is what hurts” instead of swallowing it whole.
Being open with myself is the hardest weight I’ve ever carried. I start punishing myself whenever I can’t do it, but at the same time there’s this invisible, ungodly force holding me back from trusting myself and my own advice. I’ve tried to escape countless times, runs for help down the dark roads inside my mind, hoping someone would find me there. But no one ever really does. And maybe that’s the point.
I’ve had to learn, painfully, that I have to be less harsh on myself. To allow myself to be human. Vulnerable. Whatever the difference may be. But I’ll never say I’ve “gotten over it” or that I’m a changed man. Every day is as hard as the last. The only difference is that I trust myself a little more each time, carrying just a bit more strength than the day before.
Constant awareness of my emotions is its own kind of torture. On one hand, I catch the good feelings when they show up, live in the moment without drowning in the past or choking on the future. On the other, I feel every bad one too, sharp, heavy, relentless. It means suffering again and again, and there’s no running from it.
Suffering is part of life, so they say. Sometimes you fail and have to accept that nothing moved forward the way you wanted. No matter how much I try, I can’t escape it. That’s why they tell you to stay positive. It’s easy when you’re feeling good, but the real trick is staying positive when it all feels like shit.
Our thoughts shape the future. My habits today are building something, for better or worse. The bad ones give me relief now but rob me later. The good ones are uncomfortable but push me somewhere better. Habits stick because we feed them attention.
If I tell myself something enough times, it sticks in my head. If I can keep forcing a little positivity into every possible outcome, maybe I’ll start letting in new ideas, maybe I’ll crawl out of this comfort zone I’ve built like a coffin. Maybe I’ll reach the potential I keep imagining in my head. Until then, all I can do is try to train my mind, to hold on to awareness, and hope that somewhere in all this suffering, I’ll find meaning worth the pain.
TYP Shiiiiiii
" What if you’re just tired?????????????????????? " He said to himself for the 127th time
"lol ok" He brushed if off as just another lazy thought
Being emotionally open with others is supposed to help you deal with the hard moments in life, maybe even build deeper relationships. I don’t know if that’s true for me. I’ve tried talking about my feelings, hoping for answers, hoping for someone to tell me what steps to take next. Sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. But at least explaining myself clearly reminds me I’m still human, still capable of saying “this is what hurts” instead of swallowing it whole.
Being open with myself is the hardest weight I’ve ever carried. I start punishing myself whenever I can’t do it, but at the same time there’s this invisible, ungodly force holding me back from trusting myself and my own advice. I’ve tried to escape countless times, runs for help down the dark roads inside my mind, hoping someone would find me there. But no one ever really does. And maybe that’s the point.
I’ve had to learn, painfully, that I have to be less harsh on myself. To allow myself to be human. Vulnerable. Whatever the difference may be. But I’ll never say I’ve “gotten over it” or that I’m a changed man. Every day is as hard as the last. The only difference is that I trust myself a little more each time, carrying just a bit more strength than the day before.
Constant awareness of my emotions is its own kind of torture. On one hand, I catch the good feelings when they show up, live in the moment without drowning in the past or choking on the future. On the other, I feel every bad one too, sharp, heavy, relentless. It means suffering again and again, and there’s no running from it.
Suffering is part of life, so they say. Sometimes you fail and have to accept that nothing moved forward the way you wanted. No matter how much I try, I can’t escape it. That’s why they tell you to stay positive. It’s easy when you’re feeling good, but the real trick is staying positive when it all feels like shit.
Our thoughts shape the future. My habits today are building something, for better or worse. The bad ones give me relief now but rob me later. The good ones are uncomfortable but push me somewhere better. Habits stick because we feed them attention.
If I tell myself something enough times, it sticks in my head. If I can keep forcing a little positivity into every possible outcome, maybe I’ll start letting in new ideas, maybe I’ll crawl out of this comfort zone I’ve built like a coffin. Maybe I’ll reach the potential I keep imagining in my head. Until then, all I can do is try to train my mind, to hold on to awareness, and hope that somewhere in all this suffering, I’ll find meaning worth the pain.
TYP Shiiiiiii
